This is Now
by Akira of the East
Summary: After the witches defeated Shinigami, the WEAPONS were taken,and meisters lost hope. The world is slowly falling to madness. But one day, boy meets girl. WEAPON meets MEISTER. and things just kinda take off from there. POVs of multiple characters.
1. Chapter 1

It all started 5 years ago, with the fall of Shinigami.

The witches saw that they couldn't possibly bring Shinigami down alone. They joined to form one large organization, made up of hundreds of witches.

They called themselves,

"MADNESS".

And they succeeded. Shinigami's reign was finally brought to an end, and the witches took over, led by the ones called Arachne, and her sister Medusa . What did they do then?

They decided to get rid of all WEAPONS.

They knew those foolish MEISTERS wouldn't stand a chance against them if they took away their tools.

Off to the camps the WEAPONS went.

Why, you ask, didn't they just KILL the WEAPONS and MEISTERS? It's simple, really. They kept them around merely for their own amusement, because, you see, killing all of them off would really be no fun. The satisfaction would wear off quickly, and then what? Humans, though, tended to be endlessly entertaining.

The country of Death soon became an absolutely cruel world to live in. Law and order ceased to exist. Food started to run low. Prices sky rocketed, and many fell into poverty. Crime and murder became a daily occurrence in the once peaceful land. The MEISTERS gave in. Just what can we do without our WEAPONS, they thought.

But that was before. This is now.

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><p>Okay, so this is just the kind of summaryprologue of what this story will be about. Any ideas, criticism, etc. would be LOVED. so do it. Review. Like, NAOW. (please...)


	2. Chapter 2

The girl ran down the stained cobblestone path, turning to squeeze between 2 buildings. She made her way down the alley way, blonde pigtails streaming out behind her in her haste to get away. Her breath huffed out furiously, staining the jet black sky with white. She whipped around another corner, and quickly looked around before climbing through the gap between the rotting wood of the old building. She passed through the abandoned home to the enclosed backyard and crawled through the chain link fence and into the forest that lay behind the house. _I think I lost them_, she thought to herself, relieved. Her pace slowed when the cemetery came into view. As she walked between the cracked gravestones, she saw the laboratory come into view. It looked like something that had come straight out of a horror movie. She's pretty sure about that, anyways. It had been quite a while since she had watched any movies.

She reached for the key in her coat pocket and unlocked the heavy metal door, shutting it behind her with a resounding _bang_ as she walked in. She glanced down at the bundle that had caused her so much trouble to get. But she just had to have it, she couldn't help it.

She headed for the couch in the living room and curled up on the cushions, revealing what she had wrapped up in her scarf. Candlelight made it possible to read the text on the front of the first book._ The Alchemist_, it read. The second had the words _Harry Potter _that could be made out on the worn down cover. The concept of _Harry Potter_ amazed her. The witches she had grown used to were far different from the ones in the book. Books were her escape from this world, the only thing keeping her sane. If she didn't have those worn pages to lose herself in, she was sure that she would fall into this pit called MADNESS like so many others have. Like Dr. Stein. She currently lived with the professor, since he had been her father's former partner and close friend. She rarely saw the grey haired scientist however, because now he mostly stuck to himself, avoiding her at all costs. He was falling to insanity, she knew, and his way of fighting it was mostly to deal with it himself and avoid all other life at all costs, lest he be tempted by the marvels of dissection.

She shuddered at the thought. _If papa were around, maybe he'd know what to do_, she thought. But he'd been gone for so long already. The last time she had seen him or her mama had been 5 years ago, when the witches had come for them. She knew that they had asked Stein to take care of her if something should ever happen to them, which leads to how she came to share a home with him. Why the witches hadn't taken Stein was because he had been deemed 'too unstable', and they said he wouldn't last long anyways.

After about an hour or so of reading, Maka shut _Harry Potter_ and stood to head up to her bed. Once in bed, she just lay staring out the window at the blood lusting moon. Ever since the witches took over, the moon had only seemed to have gotten crazier if that was possible, and blood dripped from its mouth non stop.

She sighed. She was sick of this world, this kind of life. She didn't want to live in fear anymore, worried for the future, Dr. Stein, or anything. She remembered how her Mama and Papa had been the top WEAPON-MEISTER duo, and how Franken Stein had also been a fearsome opponent. If the witches hadn't taken over, she would be a MEISTER in training right now, with her very own partner. _If I could find a WEAPON… could I do something? _She wondered drowsily._ Could_ I _change anything at all?_

With that thought, she surrendered herself to sleep, shutting out the harsh reality and welcoming dreams of a time when she was younger, when things had still been hopeful and innocent and the world had still had room for kindness.

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><p>Here's the actual chapter one. This story is (probably obviously) inspired by another soul eater fic, GODLESS. it is AMAZING. But there hasn't been an update in foreverrrr<p>

BTW, there is no real reason behind the books Maka is reading. They were the books that happened to be lying out in front of me at the time, but i've gotta say they actually kinda fit with the story XD


	3. Chapter 3

"Here." The voice snarled, kicking a bowl towards him. The boy did not stir from his place on the bench. "Why you ungrateful-!" The man grabbed him roughly by the collar of his shirt, raising him up and out of his seat, forcing their eyes to meet. Dark, hate filled eyes met an equally unfriendly crimson one.

"I've allowed a _thing_ like you to live here for 15 years. I've fed you, hidden you, and not even one 'thank you'?" The man did not expect a reply from his son. He hadn't heard a word from him since 5 years ago. They had never been on good terms before that event, but at least before he would acknowledge him. "A _monster _like you should be glad to have a father as kind as me." He dropped the boy, who stumbled against the piano in the corner of the room.

The door slammed shut, leaving the boy again in that dim, musty room he had become accustomed to. He glanced down at the bowl that now lay tipped over on its side, some of its contents spilling out on the floor. He knelt down to pick the dish up, able to salvage the food that didn't fall out onto the filthy floor. The room hadn't always been this unkempt, but a lot can change over the course of 5 years. He picked at the mashed potatoes that his father had brought, not feeling hungry. He would usually force himself to eat, just to survive, but he was tired. He had always held onto the hope that something would happen soon so he could finally be released from this prison he was being hidden inside of. Before the country changed, he had been ecstatic to discover he was a WEAPON. _Finally,_ he had thought. _Finally, there's something I can be good at. _But just when those dreams of being a hero, of having a life of adventure that had always seemed so out of reach to him, became a possibility, they remained just that. Dreams.

Boy, it seemed like something was out to get him.

Instead of possibilities, his ability brought him misfortune. When his parents had initially found out, they were disgusted. Imagine! A member of the prestigious Evans family, being a WEAPON? Ridiculous!

But, imagine their reaction when they found out what was happening to all the WEAPONS.

First, their son had defiled the Evans name by being a filthy WEAPON, but now he's putting them in danger? In their anger, they immediately threw Soul into the basement, which had originally contained a single bed. Eventually though, his brother had been able to convince his parents to move his piano into the room. _At least let him play if he's going to be stuck in there_, he had argued with his parents. They thought Soul didn't deserve the right to defile such a grand instrument any longer. So, finally after months of hearing nothing but about the piano from Wes, they gave in. The room was sound proof anyways, so it wasn't likely that a witch or any of their underlings would hear his playing.

He hated that piano.

Whenever he played in this dark room, _something_ just seemed to take over. He couldn't help it. As much as he fought against _it_, he couldn't push _it_ aside. His hands, at first playing a melancholy tune, would press harder. With each key stroke, the tune would become increasingly erratic, louder, his fingers flying across the once ivory keys at an inhuman rate. But worst of all, that _thing _would speak to him. Whispering sweet temptations, promising him power. The power to escape. To get rid of those parents that had done nothing but hate him all his life. And maybe, maybe he could even get rid of his dear brother, who had _always _been oh-so-_perfect_-

But each time, he couldn't bring himself to agree. Something always stopped him at the last second. He didn't know what it was, but he sure knew one thing for sure.

He had to get out of this place.

It was driving him MAD.

The only thing he had here was the piano. It beckoned to him, begging for him to place his slim digits over the ivory keys, even for just a moment.

And so he sat at the bench once again, almost against his will. And then he heard _it_ speak, for once before he had even started to play. He already felt that insane grin just itching to split his face, before he had even placed his hands on the keys.

It was getting worse.

_Oh, come now, Soul_. He heard _it_ purr. _Give in, already_. _You know you want it. Wouldn't you just love to slice into your Mommy and Daddy? Or, maybe even that brother of yours! He always did make you so jealous. Isn't it about time you got some pay back? He's the one who made your parents hate you, he-_

"Enough."

_IT'S ALL HIS FAULT, YOU KNOW?_

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Soul drove a sleek blade straight through he piano, surprising him as it cracked in half.

_Yep,_ he thought as the piano collapsed in on itself_. I need to get out of here._

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><p><em>Well, I really have nothing much to say, other than "review?" <em>

_Please?_


	4. Chapter 4

The Thompsons were widely known and feared. Revered , even.

Their path to infamy was not an easy one.

_The overwhelming scent of the luxurious perfume and that red, red lipstick, curling into that fake smile they had come to know so well._ Those were only images of that woman called "Mother" the younger Thompson recalls.

_That long, long hair, cascading down her back. The fur coats and expensive clothing. The silk décor of her bedroom. The men she took in there, disappearing with for hours on end while she and Patty sat in their tiny room, too weak and hungry_ _to move_. The images the elder Thompson recalls of _her_.

But the one image the both recall quite clearly, as though it had occurred yesterday, was one of _Mommy dearest _turning away from the two girls that sat on the park bench, sashaying away in that same seductive manner that caused every passing man to turn their heads back just to watch a little longer. She had said she would be back in a few minutes.

_A few minutes, my ass._

_A few minutes _soon turned into 20 minutes. 20 soon became an hour.

One hour soon became five.

And being at the tender ages of 8 and 10, it took them a while to find their way through the maze of buildings that was Brooklyn.

They can't say they were honestly surprised at what they came home to find. What they found of course, was absolutely nothing. The apartment was completely cleaned out, as if no one had ever lived there before.

They did recognize one thing, however.

Their old room.

The thin, single cot that lay on the dust coated floor lay slashed open, the stuffing popping out at all angles. That hideous wallpaper had been scrawled over in marker, saying unintelligible things.

All except for the words "_Demon sisters_" and "_Die"._

That had been a pretty clear message to them.

And so the girls fled in anguish, only to be stopped in the alleyway beside their building. A man stopped them, glasses glinting, lewd grin on his face. He started towards the two. Backed them into a corner.

And never saw what was coming.

When she came to, the eldest had glinting metal in one hand, glistening red on the other. Her clothes were covered in the glistening red as well.

The younger Thompson was nowhere in sight. Liz went in a panic, calling for her sister, and was cut off by that sweet giggling coming from her hand. The glinting metal began to glow, and turned into a little girl, giggling madly.

The Brooklyn Devils were born.

It was only after two years on the streets that the witches took over. The two, now fully engulfed in the MADNESS, were unstoppable, blasting witches left and right for the heck of it. They rose in status, becoming infamous. The beautiful, demonic sisters. But every great reign has an end.

The witches finally put a stop to a great threat against them, and threw them to the camps. They were MAD and powerful, a tag team of two WEAPONS.

But then they met _him_.

He brought them out. He saved them. If he hadn't walked up when the two were bound by magic in the freezing night, they would have died. They would still be those MAD, MAD sisters.

Death the Kid was his name.

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><p>uhh yeah liz, patty, and kid's intro. School has made it impossible to write this thing.<p>

Yay spring break :D

Review? Please?


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